Chapter 15 - Naked Apron

Warlock Ch 15. Naked Apron

Evelyn, still sitting next to him, smiled softly. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. "Yes, Damian. That's exactly what I meant. My power becomes part of you, just as yours will become part of me. But..." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "It's still weak. Because our bond is still weak."

Damian frowned, the confusion he'd been trying to push aside rising again. "Weak? What do you mean?"

Evelyn's hand moved to his face, gently tracing the line of his jaw as she spoke. "You don't fully trust me yet. I can feel it. The bond is real, but it's not complete. Not yet." Her eyes were soft, but there was an understanding in them that unnerved him. She wasn't accusing him; she was simply stating a fact. "You're still holding back."

Damian couldn't deny it. His heart pounded as he looked at her. She was right. He was holding back. Everything had moved so quickly—his life had been turned upside down in the span of a single night, and while his instincts had pushed him to trust her, his mind was still reeling from all the changes.

"Yeah," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I guess I am." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find the right words. "It's just... this is all happening so fast. I didn't expect to be in this position—hell, I didn't even know magic existed until a few hours ago. Now I'm... forming bonds and gaining powers from it? It's a lot to take in."

Evelyn nodded, her expression softening as she listened. "I understand," she said gently. "It's overwhelming. I've been living in this world my whole life, but for you, it's new. And it's only natural to be confused, to question everything." She leaned in a little closer, her voice lowering. "But you made your choice, Damian. You chose to trust me, even if it's not fully there yet. That's enough for now."

Damian let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't argue with that. He had made his choice when he rejected Malthus, and now, here he was—bonded to a witch, gaining skills he didn't fully understand. It was surreal.

"So, what happens now?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "I've got this bond with you, I've unlocked some kind of magic... but what's next?"

Evelyn smiled, but this time there was something playful in her eyes. "Well, for starters," she said, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head, "you're probably hungry. All this magic, bonding and running... it takes a toll on you." She laughed lightly. "Let me cook you something."

Damian's stomach rumbled as if on cue, and he realized she was right. He hadn't eaten since earlier in the day, and with everything that had happened, he hadn't even thought about food. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the hunger hit him all at once.

"Yeah, I guess I could eat," Damian admitted, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "But... you don't have to do that. I mean, after everything that just happened, I should probably be the one—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Evelyn interrupted, her voice firm but teasing. "You've had a rough night. Let me take care of you for a bit. Besides, I think we need to talk some more. I know you're still confused about a lot of things."

Damian opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his lips as Evelyn stood up from the seat. She wasn't wearing anything—except for a small apron she had grabbed from a nearby hook. The apron covered the bare minimum, leaving her otherwise exposed. She tied it around her waist, not seeming the least bit self-conscious.

"Uh..." Damian's eyes widened, his face flushing as he tried to figure out how to respond. "You're just... gonna cook like that?"

Evelyn glanced over her shoulder, smirking as she caught his expression. "Yes," she teased, clearly enjoying his reaction. "Besides, it's comfortable. I'll put on something more appropriate later."

Damian felt his face heat up even more, and he looked away, trying not to stare. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say," he said.

Evelyn laughed softly as she headed toward the small kitchen area, her bare feet padding quietly against the floor. "Relax, Damian. I won't bite... unless you ask me to."

Damian let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. "I think I'm good for now, thanks."

Evelyn busied herself in the kitchen. Damian sat back on the couch, his mind still spinning. He couldn't believe how different everything was now. A few hours ago, he'd been a bartender, living a normal life, and now... now he was in the home of a witch, forming magical bonds and unlocking arcane powers.

He glanced over at her as she moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing what looked like a stew. But he wasn't sure. Who knew she would make something else?

The apron fluttered slightly as she worked, revealing glimpses of her smooth, pale skin. Despite the absurdity of it all, Damian couldn't help but feel a strange sense of calm watching her. There was something about Evelyn that put him at ease, even though he knew he should be on edge.

"You're handling this better than I expected," Evelyn said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. She set a steaming bowl of stew in front of Damian, the rich aroma filling the air. The kitchen, despite being part of a magical world Damian was still getting used to, had a surprisingly homey feel. It was a small slice of normality in the middle of everything surreal.

Damian eyed the bowl cautiously, sniffing it as if it might bite back. His eyes narrowed, and he glanced up at her, skeptical. "This is just stew, right? Nothing weird in here?"